Chapter 231
chapter231
Did she like Emmanuel?
Even Mackenzie didn’t have a clear answer to that. She had established a trial period of six months for their arrangement, and it felt far too early to draw a definitive conclusion. However, the presence of other women around him was beginning to stir an unfamiliar restlessness in her.
Claudette smiled gracefully. “You should be careful, then, Ms. Quillen. Men of character are rare and highly sought after. If you hesitate too long while observing him, you might find that another woman has already recognized his worth. Regret is a heavy burden to carry.”
The other women at the table looked on, confused by the subtle undertones of the conversation. Lexi, however, was mesmerized by the sharp, lethal exchange of words masked by polite smiles.
Her impressions of both Mackenzie and Claudette were being completely redefined today. In the past, Mackenzie was the "Ice Queen," distant and unapproachable, while Claudette was known for being gentle, reserved, and entirely disconnected from romantic scandals. Yet here they were, engaged in a sophisticated psychological war over one man.
“I have little interest in men who can be easily swayed by the first distraction that comes their way,” Mackenzie responded coldly, her gaze unwavering.
“A fair point,” Claudette replied, her eyes narrowing slightly as she maintained her pleasant expression.
Mackenzie had always respected Claudette’s poise, but now she felt a distinct sense of competition emanating from the other woman.
“Enjoy your tea, Ms. Quillen. I have an appointment to keep, so I’ll take my leave now,” Claudette added with a polite nod before exiting the teahouse.
Mackenzie watched her go, her expression unreadable. She waited a few moments before making her own exit, leaving the rest of the group stunned by the brevity of her visit.
“Ms. Quillen, if I may?” Lexi asked, catching up to her in the hallway.
“Go ahead.”
“You could settle this with a single word. Why give your rivals any ground to stand on? You know Emmanuel values your opinion above all else.”
“Rivals? You’re overthinking things, Lexi,” Mackenzie said, feigning indifference, though her pace quickened slightly.
Lexi smiled, used to her boss’s defensive shell. “Is she not a rival? Beatrix mentioned they were out late recently. Even the most disciplined man has his limits.”
“Let them stay out as long as they like,” Mackenzie snorted, though her tone lacked its usual bite.
Lexi knew that while Emmanuel was a man of high principles—having passed every test Mackenzie had thrown his way—Claudette was exceptionally charming and patient. If Mackenzie remained too distant, she feared the doctor might eventually be drawn to a warmer light.
It was 9:00 AM, leaving four and a half hours before the scheduled group activity. Claudette rushed home, determined to use every minute to prepare. Today was a rare opportunity to spend quality time with Emmanuel, and every detail had to be perfect.
In her dressing room, she stood before her expansive wardrobes. Rows of designer outfits, from elegant evening gowns to sophisticated casual wear, filled the space. Despite having enough clothes to host a fashion show, she found herself paralyzed by choice, pondering over combinations for half an hour.
The rustle of silk and the sound of hangers eventually attracted the attention of her stepmother, Laura Newman.
Laura leaned against the doorframe, looking refreshed and relaxed. She was dressed in a sophisticated silk robe, her youthful appearance and graceful movements making it impossible for anyone to guess her real age. She watched Claudette’s frantic movements with an amused, cat-like curiosity.
“What’s the occasion, Claudette?” Laura asked, her voice carrying a hint of morning drowsiness. “I’ve never seen you this indecisive over an outfit. You’ve been sighing at those mirrors for twenty minutes.”
She sat down on the edge of a chaise longue, watching her stepdaughter with a playful smile. “Is this for work, or has a certain someone finally managed to catch your eye?”
Claudette paused, a silk scarf in her hand, as she considered how much to reveal. The quiet house was now filled with the tension of preparation, a stark contrast to the cold war that had just taken place at the teahouse.